


The Feathers and the Thread

by DickBaggins



Category: Supernatural
Genre: First Time, M/M, Wing Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-21
Updated: 2013-11-21
Packaged: 2018-01-02 07:18:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1054026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DickBaggins/pseuds/DickBaggins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam wants to see Cas's wings; Cas obliges, and things escalate quickly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Feathers and the Thread

It was Sam's fault, Sam who asked about them with his puppy-dog soft face. Cas soared his wings out like a peacock and when that wasn't enough, he let Sam rake his long fingers over his feathers. He wasn't prepared for the spark that crept up his spine or the heat of Sam pressing against his side, eyes wide in awe and then shining something darker.

Sam's other hand – the one that wasn't buried up to his knuckles in feathers – grabbed a fistful of coat and tugged. “Take this off, I want to see where they start.”

No brokering with that tone but, confusingly, everything added up to a delicious tight hum radiating from his wings and pooling in his stomach. He flashed off the layers Sam wanted and gasped in surprise; Sam slid around and plunged both hands through the downy thickness on Cas's back and curled his hands around the thickest part.

Cas's breath hitched around a groan and his wings rippled all on their own, batted against Sam and he _felt_ the hunter's heat through them, felt his heartbeat as it picked up.

Sam pressed closer, rustled the wings in between them and spilled hot breath across Cas's neck. “Like it?” He rasped, tugging one appendage and ruffling the other, pausing to slide two fingers up and down one of the topmost feathers, sticking up so high and stiff it nearly brushed the back of Cas's head.

Oh, no one had done _that_ before. Cas arched into Sam's stroking fingers and bit at his lip, eyes fluttering shut. What was _happening_? Everything started so innocent and now, now he was trying not to moan but Sam slid a hand down on his hip, pulled him back and nuzzled into his wings. His feathers trapped Sam's breath, heated Cas up in _so_ many ways. He threw his head back and gulped in air.

Sam grabbed Cas's exposed throat, ran a finger down the long line of it, down his bare chest and curled around his belt. Cas watched Sam's big hand spanning his stomach so easily, tugging apart his belt and his zipper and pushing down between pants and underpants and _holy shit_.

Cas snapped his head back again, stuttered out a strained noise when Sam's hand curled around his dick. He hadn't even realised how hard it was, that the pleasant pressure building low in him had been _that_ but there was no going back. Sam chuckled into his wing, the low sound reverberating through Cas's bones and then Sam reached _inside_ his boxers, opened his mouth around a hard clench of muscles in the angel's back and all those moans Cas held in tumbled out in a rush.

He didn't know what to concentrate on, he was coming apart into a million different pieces. Sam was sucking, sliding his mouth along Cas's joints, and Sam's _hand_ , Cas didn't even know what was happening, too distracted to see but it felt great. Had to be his thumb, big and wide, rolling around the head of his dick, slipping easily around in the mess Cas was leaking out.

“Yeah,” Sam rumbled deep in the tangle of wings, “Yeah, really like it, don't you? So wet, _crazy_ hard, Cas, what's better? My tongue in your pretty feathers or my hand on your dick?”

He hoped it was all rhetorical but Sam sunk his teeth in to the thickest end of his wings, just for a second, just enough for a warning. Cas couldn't think of words, breath quickening, but he managed to groan out, “Everything, Sam, all of it.”

Sam liked that answer, evidently, humming and nosing past Cas's soft, sensitive feathers to the muscle underneath. He left a wet trail up to Cas's neck and nuzzled at his ear, pressed his chest into the soft wings trapped between them. And his hand kept squeezing at Cas's dick. “You ever come?” and he moved his hand, finally, so slick and tight and _perfect_ down Cas's shaft, back up again, fingers ghosting over his head until Cas jerked his hips, so surprised by how _good_ it all felt. “Well?”

“N-no,” Cas forced out through the tight strain of his throat; everything felt tight, muscles strung so taut he thought nothing would ever help. But then, Sam started working his cock in earnest, fast and all wrist and his other hand tangled in feathers, stroking and tugging. There was pressure everywhere, ripples emanating from Sam's tight grip on his wings and his ceaseless hand jerking him off, all too much at once and Cas had to close his eyes and _how did that make it worse_?

It was all sensation with nothing to focus on, all tugging and pulling in every direction and Sam grinding out his hot breath against Cas's neck and then Cas was shouting, grabbing at Sam everywhere he could, digging his fingernails into Sam's forearm even as he worked at his prick. Cas heaved a sudden breath and everything clenched up hard. His wings beat uselessly between them and his whole body lurched when he came like a punch, held upright entirely by Sam's hand burrowed into his wings and his thick heavy weight against the angel. He felt the heat of his orgasm everywhere, face flush with blood, red and yellow and white behind his eyelids and felt Sam humming approval against his neck, his hand slowing down, smearing his shaft wet and sticky.

There wasn't enough air in the room, Cas was sure, sucking in hot breaths and wracked with twitches everywhere and Sam wouldn't let go of him, kept dragging his hand up and down and pressing against his back, panting heavy. In a fevered flutter, Cas's wings jutted out hard, sent Sam stumbling back and thudding against the wall. Cas took only a second to collect himself, spinning around with as much of a flourish as he could manage, taking in a shaky breath and advancing.

His wings spread wide as he walked, filled up the room with light and fresh cool air, and then they flashed dark, tangled hard around Sam and pinned him to the wall. Cas's turn to surprise, now.

 

* * *

It was the strangest dichotomy of soft and strong, being pressed chest and face first into the wall by Cas's wings. One curled around the front of Sam, between him and the faded wallpaper, rustled all downy against his t-shirt, brushed across his neck and his face, nearly cradled him there. He couldn’t help but turn his face into the sweep of feathers, nuzzling and breathing against them, watching the tips ruffle with every pant from his slacked open mouth.

But then there was the other wing, not so gently jutting into his shoulder and holding him firmly in place. The thick ridge of muscle and sinew jammed against him in a bruising crush, strangely warm but nothing compared to the heat of Cas's chest pressed against him all of a sudden. The difference between wings and fingers was achingly evident when Cas slid his hand up into Sam's hair, heated and dextrous and _tugging_.

Sam's breath hitched and he didn't even fight it, let Cas tilt his head back sharp, shivered at the brush of feathers against his exposed neck.

Cas pressed his body against Sam harder, smaller but incredibly imposing, breath searing across Sam's shoulders and long neck. “I'd like to return the favour,” he said, and he was not asking.

In a second, Sam's clothes disappeared away, nothing between him and Cas but skin and heat and ruffling feathers. They slid against him _everywhere_. Neck still wrenched back, he couldn't see but _wanted_ to, wanted to watch the shortest, softest feathers brushing his hips, his thighs, finally his dick. He babbled out something, some barely human noise and arched against the touch, needed more but it was so soft and light. Little quills trailed in the slick mess his cock was leaking and it was agony.

Cas laid a hand between Sam's shoulder blades, regular muscles of his vessel combining with his wings to keep Sam mashed flat, but there was some question in his tone when he asked, “This...you like this?” and nosed against Sam's ear.

“Yes, it's-yes,” Sam panted out, couldn't really say more. He liked it, being pinned down and held helpless against the wall and it wasn't something he got to experience very often, not in earnest at least. Cas was still new, like minutes new at this but learning fast, seemed to know Sam liked wriggling helpless in his bruising embrace, knew the right pressure begfore it turned painful and everything and it was uncanny but it was perfect at the same time.

The strong wing curled around Sam's front, the one fluttering teasing feathers over his throbbing cock, shifted just a little, slid downward so the bigger, stronger feathers rubbed against Sam, soft and hard at the same time. He tried to move his arms but no, they were pinned and Cas was not letting them go. Sam did all he could, only able to rock his hips against the firmer feathers, gasping broken when his head bumped against a hard ridge, bumped and thrust and in a rush, he was enveloped in a surprisingly warm bunch of feathers.

No idea how, he still couldn't see, but the feathery bunch wrapped around his dick somehow, maybe just spread wider so he could fuck them, or whatever, he honestly didn't care. It was enough, finally, and he swallowed hard, strained throat bobbing as Cas ran his fingers over it. He finally released Sam's hair, wrapped that arm around the hunter's chest and pressed so hard against him, Sam felt the sticky mess of Cas against his hip. He was hard again, maybe never even went soft, unsurprisingly.

Sam squeezed his eyes shut, let his forehead drop against the wall just for a second, free falling into the most perfect sensations he'd ever felt: everything soft and hard at once, so much heat trapped in the wings he was messing up because his dick wouldn't stop twitching and leaking. He was grunting like a needy animal, slamming his hips up against Cas's clever wings and then – _and then_ -

Soft, literal feather-lightness swept up over his heavy balls, swallowed him like nothing he'd ever, ever felt. Sam's immobilized arms twitched, _wanted_ so bad to grab at something, anything but Cas just tightened his grip, tightened everything. Sam finally looked down and it undid him completely. There was something so beautiful and wrong about his cock jutting up red and hard through the tangle of wings, slicking them all up, matting them together and Cas was watching too, over his shoulder, breath punching out in little hitches. Sam wanted to ask him what it felt like, having his wings fucked but he couldn't make his mouth do anything but gasp, tumble out needy, borderline embarrassing moans.

The feathers around him rustled soft, gripped again and the soft pressure was completely too much, intolerable. The other wing – the pinning wing – steadied his hips so he couldn't even move, so it was just the fluttering slide all up and down, squeezing somehow – _how did they do that?_ \- and Sam couldn't stand to watch it anymore. He couldn’t even shout, moan, no noise when he came in the most sudden rush he'd ever felt, all oversensitivity and perfect horrible light touches like air, like nothing. His mouth fell open wide and Cas was humming low against his neck, vibrating deep all through Sam. Sam's whole body shuddered and he swore though the orgasmic haze that nothing held him up but Cas's wings, swore he felt his legs give out for just a second but Cas had him.

It felt like he might never stop shivering and twitching, and then he was spun around again, facing Cas but still swept all up in his wings, still panting and struck dumb. Still couldn't talk but Cas wasn't saying anything either, just tugging him close as he could, mashing them together in a sticky hot tangle. He finally released Sam's arms, too, and Sam flung them around Cas, buried them deep in his wings.

Nothing to say, nothing Sam could even think to say after all of that, but he must have muttered, _bed_ , because they were there in a dizzying second, still wrapped up together, still the startling balance between soft feathers and the strongest grip Sam had ever known.


End file.
